


Roadkill

by evarosen



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-16 20:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3501098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evarosen/pseuds/evarosen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim always knew what he did that day would come back to bite him in the ass. Though he never thought it would be so literal. ("Warm Bodies" AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Guanin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guanin/gifts).



General Falcone was giving his usual pre-mission pep talk, which could be pretty much summed up as “Don’t be stupid and get yourself killed”

A sentiment Jim could agree with, if it wasn’t adorned with so much bullshit.

On his right, Harvey made one snide comment after another under his breath, while Dent (also named Harvey, but who wasn’t on first name basis with anyone except maybe Jim) glared at him and tried unsuccessfully to shush him up.

“Aren’t you going to tell him to shut up?” Dent demanded as soon as they got moving.

Jim gave him an apologetic smile. “You say that as if Harvey paid any more attention to me than he does to you”

“Harvey’s right here if you got any complains, Dent.” Harvey said, catching up to them.

When Dent had joined the team, Harvey had suggested they called him ‘lesser Harvey’. 

Latter he admitted Jim had been right at dismissing his suggestion, as Dent was “a self-righteous asshole, as if there was any shortage of that, and he doesn’t even have your redeeming qualities, Jimmy-boy.”

Jim had also dismissed that. Part of being Harvey’s partner was ignoring about half the things he said.

“Hey! The three of you, focus!” Sarge hissed.

Unlike ‘General’ Falcone, Pennyworth had really been a military man at some point (never clearly defined) of his life, so he was more able to take care of himself in the open than any of them, with the possible exception of Zsasz.

He also really cared about his people which marked another difference with their de facto leaders.

Jim often suspected the only thing preventing him from telling Falcone to go to hell and taking off on his own was Bruce.

Bruce was a twelve year old boy, whose parents, for what Jim could guess after being jolted awake by his nightmares on a regular basis, had been murdered. 

Not during The Plague, but before.

Sometimes it was hard tob remember things had alreadybeen bad before, at least here in Gotham.

 

They split when they reached the warehouse district, studying the map Mooney had provided.

“The mob hid tons of supplies on those abandoned building,” she’d said in the meeting. “Including medical ones. I guess they were planning to speculate with them once the city went into quarantine. Of course even they couldn't dream on how bad things would get," she added, sending a sharp, ironic smile at Falcone.

He'd glared at her, but lowered his gaze when she refused to. 

 

"You shouldn't antagonize Dent like that," Jim said, once they had wandered far enough.

"And you shouldn't encourage him like that," Harvey retorted, aiming his flashlight at Jim's face.

It was still broad daylight, outside (trying to cross the city during nighttime would be near suicide), but the warehouses, as Mooney said, would be in complete shadow the further they were in. They were hold and huge, some of them almost laberynthic inside.

"I do not encourage him" Jim said.

He realized too late he'd lost his chance at feigning ignorance at what Harvey was implying.

Still, he thought it was absurd.

"Sure you don't. He's practically been your shadow ever since Barbara broke up with you; you even started eating with him every time I don't make it in time."

"When you're too hungover to, you mean."

Harvey made a dissmissive gesture. 

"Sure, it is my fault you're babbysitting Mr. Hyde."

Jim decided to change tactics.

"Do you know he lost his father during the Plague?"

Harvey waved that away. 

"That's no excuse.Everyone lost someone during the Plague. Hell, _you_ lost your father during the Plague."

Jim shook his head. 

"It's not the same. Montoya told me. They survived the first wave, and made it to the safe zone. Then his father died, and turned, and he had to put him down."

Harvey was silent a few moments. 

"That sucks," he conceded, finally.

"Yes, " Jim agreed.

Harvey rolled his eyes. "That's still no excuse for being a stuck-up asshole".

Jim was about to scold him again, but a far away noise made him stop.

He lifted his head, and saw Sargent Pennyworth do the same at the other side of the room. They exchanged glances.

Suddenly, what seemed like a small army of mice, hidden a second ago, burst out from under the spare furniture and the containers, running across the floor in a frenzy.

"Nothing that makes the mice run like that can be good," Dent said, coming in from the adjacent room.

That's when the zombies burst through the door.


	2. Chapter 2

For some reason, the other zombies seemed to dislike him. 

Not that it was easy to tell with almost every sound they were able to produce being a growl; but they tended to roll their eyes in a way that would be a glare if they had better motor control, and there had definitely been some baring of teeth from some that still had enough lips left to pull it off.

Somehow he had a feeling he hadn't been much more popular before.

He shrugged, and approached the Guy with Glasses. _He_ was pretty nice, as far as zombies went.

Guy with Glasses normally lurked next to the magazine rack, staring mournfully at the crossword and puzzles stand.

He also took everything with a question mark on it and stashed it on the desk of what used to be a telemarketer office.

As far as O was concerned, his loot was safe there. 

He'd seen himself on the glass pannels of the mall, and he was wearing a suit (just as Guy with Glasses), so the possibility of having ever worked there when he was alive filled him with enough dread as to avoid going anywhere near it.

Guy with Glasses followed him to the Starburks shop, sat across him at one of the tables that didn't have anything spilled on them (O thought that their love for neatness was one of the more solids basis of their friendship, such as it was), and proceeded to stare at him.

O also stared at him.

It was very boring.

After a while, they started to growl at each other, although making a softer sound that the aggressive ones O tended to be the recipient of.

"OOoooo." O said, and pointed at himself. Kinda. Thruth be told, his fingers no longer worked that way.

Guy with Glasses gave a single, jerky nod, and in turn crowed "Eeeeee."

They did this almost every day.

At the end, O got up, and started heading to the door. He was hungry, as they all were all the time, as far as he could be aware of the others.

Guy with Glasses also stood from his seat and started to follow, but as they were reaching the door he clumsily lifted his hand toward O, and pulled feebly at his sleeve.

O stopped, and turned to look at him questioningly.

"EEeee. Eeeeed." Guy with Glasses managed at last. The corner of his mouth lifted up in a smug attemp at a smile.

O shook his head.

Show-off.

Three or four other zombies passed by the door, on the exit direction. It was time to go looking for food.

O followed them, Guy with Glasses at his heel.

They had a long road ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know I haven't abandoned. I will have at least two chapters by wednesday, and Jim and Oswald will finally get face to face.

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'ed. So if you spot any mistake/have any helpful suggestion, feel free to point it out.


End file.
